


A World Where You and I Belong

by chalantness



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Minor Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, The Avengers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chalantness/pseuds/chalantness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s a <em>warrior</em> and visiting a realm full of mortals makes her uneasy, all because of one mortal in particular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A World Where You and I Belong

**Author's Note:**

> [reposted to ao3 on Feb 23, 2014 from [ff.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9841855/1/A-World-Where-You-and-I-Belong) / [tumblr](http://chalantness.tumblr.com/post/66800955863/fic-a-world-where-you-and-i-belong)]

For all of her preconceived notions, this planet really _can_ be beautiful if you go to the right places and stay away from prying eyes that will recognize the man standing beside her (though his reputation _here_ is much less impressive than his reputation back home).

But it still makes her rather uncomfortable.

She’s a _warrior_ and visiting a realm full of mortals makes her uneasy, all because of one mortal in particular.

And, as if on cue, a gruff voice warm against her ear informs, “You are making that face again.”

She smirks and shakes her head, shoving Thor by his bicep. He just chuckles deeply and tucks his hand into the back pocket of her jeans – a rather comfortable piece of clothing that she’s become accustomed to wearing on these frequent trips to Midgard.

Excuse her: _Earth._

Speaking of which, the clothing had been another part of this world that had taken several visits to become comfortable with.

They’re articles that would be inefficient on the battlefield and rather indecent in the halls of a grand palace. They’re also rather finicky—one thing fit too snugly in some parts and another fit too loosely in others, and sometimes she wore things that exposed skin she wasn’t used to exposing. (Though, considering the way Thor suddenly became unable to keep his hands and eyes off of her whenever she would wear these particular outfits, the strange styles aren’t necessarily a _bad_ thing.) According to Natasha and Pepper (both of whom Sif admires due to their fierceness and had even come to consider dear friends of hers), the outfit they leant her for today’s outing consists of dark-washed, low-riding jeans worn with a cropped blouse in white and combat boots in black. All Sif had commented is that it left a fair portion of her mid-section exposed, to which Pepper had declared was the entire point.

For lunch today, they had been dropped via helicopter in the middle of a beautiful, mountainous area with the ocean visible on the horizon and forests in every other direction. They laid down blankets onto the grass and unloaded a banquet spread that everyone had spent the entire morning making together. And, as they filled their plates with food and began casual conversation, Sif had noted that this serene landscape and pleasant meal was a dramatic change from the chaotic one that had unfolded just a few hours ago when they’d attempted to cook cohesively in Tony’s automated kitchen. It is probably one of her favorite things about Thor’s (and, alright, _her_ ) mortal friends—the chaos, so wonderfully explosive.

But, had the company alone have not been enough for Sif to not grimace whenever Midgard was mentioned, this view right now would’ve done it.

"Sif," Thor says, making her look at him. He brings her closer, so that her knee brushes against his between them, and moves his hands so that both of them sit at her hips. She slides her arms around him in return, linking her fingers together over the small of his back. "You are thinking much too deeply."

She tilts her head, amused. “Perhaps you are just thinking much too shallowly.”

His chuckle is deep and rumbles in his chest, which she can feel with the way they are pressed together.

A warm breeze passes through, distracting them, and they both turn to look as the wind sweeps over the grass and the rustles the branches of the trees covering the side of the mountain. In her peripheral, however, she watches Thor—the way a gentle, amazed smile spreads across his features, lighting up his entire expression.

After a moment, he meets her eyes once more. He smiles at her, calm but also curious. “What are your thoughts, Sif? Do you care to share them with me?”

"You love it here."

She says it simply and without jealousy or anger or even mild disapproval. She no longer feels those things regarding his feelings of this place, has not felt them for a while and especially not after all the time they’ve spent here—today and previous days. Though not as intensely, she, too, finds herself unable to explain the wonder of this world.

He blinks slowly, clearly not expecting that answer. She smiles at him, though, and this seems to encourage him to do the same.

"I do," he admits. "I love many things about this place. I love many things about the realms. But in the end, I will always love Asgard more." He brings a hand up and places it against her cheek. "I have always loved Asgard more. And I have always loved you the most."

Her smile falters. “Be careful, _my king._ It would be wise not be so dismissive. To ignore the past would only be an insult to… to the both of us.”

"I deny nothing," he replies easily, _his_ smile never wavering. “I do not deny that I loved Jane”—the name makes Sif flinch, as it always have and maybe always will, and Thor pulls her as close as physically possible in response—”but my love for you has never faded. Much like you, in fact, it has changed and it has persisted and remained with me even when I was unworthy of and unable to appreciate its greatness.” She lets out a breathy laugh, closes her eyes and leans into his touch as a smile spreads across her lips. “My love— _our love—_ has blossomed into a beauty that the realms have never seen before, and I can say with the utmost certainty that I have never loved anyone the way that I love you, my Queen.”

"You are terribly corny."

He laughs this time, a deep, booming laugh.

Her smile widens as she opens her eyes and continues, “And I am not even your queen, yet.”

"That time will come," he reminds, "though, certainly not soon enough."

“ _Corny_ ,” she breathes again before he slants his lips over hers. The kiss feels gentle and chaste enough, though she knows by the way that he holds her that he is restraining himself. He was raised with sacred values surrounding love and marriage and she feels rather prideful by his eagerness for their marriage to allow him to properly display their affection.

She swipes her tongue across his bottom lip, just to see what he will do (though she already knows; it’s hardly the first time she’s teased his restraint), and he groans from the back of his throat before reluctantly forcing a bit of distance between them, pulling his lips away from hers and holding her away by her hips. “Sif,” he says, though if he had been attempting to sound disapproving, he failed greatly. She shrugs one shoulder and smirks, unabashed, to which he simply chuckles and kisses her in the middle of her forehead.

"Sif!"

The exclamation startles her, especially when coming from a childish voice she isn’t used to hearing. Still, she smiles down at James, who gives her a brighter smile in response and raises his arms. She chuckles and complies, lifting him up and placing him against her hip.

He looks _so_ much like Steve, smile and blue eyes and all. Except for his red hair, of course, and the way he rolls his eyes—that’s entirely Natasha.

"Hello, little one," Thor greets. He holds his hand up for a high-five, which James happily gives, and it’s almost comical, how _tiny_ his hand is against Thor’s. Then James turns back to Sif, his eyes never leaving hers as he takes a chunk of her hair in his little fist. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” James giggles again, tugging her hair gently. “I think so, too.”

"Stop," she laughs, feeling warmth spread across her cheeks.

Thor chuckles. “Come now. Let’s join the others.”

Steve watches them walking back to their picnic area, smiling up at his son, who waves at him from Sif’s arms but doesn’t attempt to free himself. Sif sits beside Steve on the blanket with James in her lap and Thor on her other side. James reaches towards the platter of fruit in front of him, squirming in Sif’s lap, and she picks up a banana and peels it open him. She watches in amusement as he takes a tentative bite, then a few more eager ones, then laughs when he smiles at her and she sees that his cheeks and lips are already messy. Then he holds up his banana to her with both hands, pushing it towards her lips. She chuckles a bit but leans forward all the same, pretending to take a bite and then humming in interest.

"Your turn," she declares after feigning a swallow, and he smiles, content, and continues eating.

Steve chuckles as he watches his son staring up at Sif. “He really likes you,” he points out needlessly, amused.

"How could he not?" Thor asks, smiling as he sets a hand over the small of her back.

James looks around nonchalantly as he eats, though seems to perk up immediately after a moment and get to his feet, toddling over to where his mother talking with Bruce and Pepper. Everyone laughs. “Oh, geez, look at you,” Natasha says, amused as she pulls James onto her lap and wiping his face with the napkin Steve hands her. “You’re hungry, huh?”

"He has your appetite," Steve teases.

Natasha rolls her eyes, smiling, and then everyone’s laughing again when James copies his mother, rolling his eyes as well.

Sif watches James and Steve and Natasha, a smile spreading across her face. Even now, when all they’d doing is sitting with each other, it’s easy to see how James is so much like the both of them—not just in appearance, but in his presence in general. He’s always smiling and full of energy, so much so that it’s palpable, which is very much like Steve. But, even so young, it’s easy to see that he has a demeanor very similar to his mother—calm and collected, but not without a bit of playfulness. Likewise, it’s amazing to see Steve and Natasha as parents. Not because she doubted their ability to be parents, but simply because it’s so _natural_ to them now. It’s incredibly endearing, to say the least, if a little surprising at times.

About to be wedded to the future king of Asgard in a matter of weeks, it’s a given that kids will be part of their lives sooner or later, but Sif hadn’t really thought of it much until right now, watching these three. She tilts her head to look back at Thor, whose eyes are still on James, as is everyone else’s. The first thing she pictures is a girl with Thor’s blonde hair but stubborn and competitive and eager, unmistakably like her mother. Or maybe there’d be a boy with her dark hair, confident and charismatic, a natural leader just like his father.

Thor kisses her temple, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"I want one."

He nods towards James and she laughs lightly, shifting to lean more comfortably against his chest.

"Whatever the king wants," she teases. Except she’s not really teasing at all and they both know it, and he grasps her chin with his fingers, tilting her head a little so that he can kiss her properly, more deeply than before, as if trying to convey that he planned on making his wish come true sooner rather than later.

She barely keeps herself from whimpering (she never gives him that kind of satisfaction right away) and sets a hand against his chest, this time being the one to separate them.

"I am only king so long as you are my queen," he tells her, his thumb tracing over the exposed skin above her jeans, making her hum softly.

"And don’t you forget that."


End file.
